Bells (or, On the Rootftop)
by MysticLock
Summary: A short scene that takes place on the rooftop before L's death, and slightly beyond. ((LxLight))


Ｂｅｌｌｓ

（ｏｒ， Ｏｎ ｔｈｅ Ｒｏｏｆｔｏｐ）

.

.

**Ｉ**

_Persistent drops of rain, falling_

_to the earth. Dark eyes convert themselves_

_into believing,_

_as they stare,_

_that up above there rests a palace built_

_from ivory and dreams._

* * *

_L was not going to die._

L was not going to die, and he would make sure that he was not going to die, for if he did he would no longer be living, and that was reason enough in itself.

He decided this, when he was standing out in the rain. Feet cold. Face cold. Chin turned upward to greet the moon and the stars clinging above to their black and darkened backdrop which stretched on into an eternity until the end of the universe, and further.

L was not going to die, because if he did it would mean that he would not be able to feel this anymore. The pain, the love, the hate, the bitterness, the ubiquitous boredom that was relieved only by the same person who caused him to feel all these things, and he could not take him with him if he were to die, he would only be alone.

If his parents had waited for him, L thought, they would have grown tired by now and retreated back into the paradise of heaven, or hell, or wherever it was they went. And if there was nothing but only dirt and worms, then living had to be better, even if it hurt and that person who he had admitted a friend was standing now only a few meters away, face the picture of worry, eyes comprising within them the wish of death, and a black heart beating, dully.

So if not L, then Light?

**II**

"Ryuzaki," the beautiful eighteen year old said, holding up a hand to his face and calling out. "What are you doing standing out here in the rain?"

And they could have been in a soap opera, a tragic romance, a Shakespearean play full of liars and murderers and fairies and thieves.

And Shinigami.

L didn't hear, not because he didn't, but because he didn't want to, and wasn't the mind a powerful thing.

Or perhaps he did.

_idle as he bides his time,_

_waiting for a moment._

_Fingers trace the air, hover outside_

_of an uncertainty;_

_feet move,_

_slow and calculated, everything is measured._

Cupping a hand to his ear, he feigned not hearing, encouraging his beautiful enemy to take a step closer and he did, hair soaking, rain dripping; carving through him and reminding him that he was only human and God's did not get wet, or cold, or bleed.

But L would make him bleed.

**III  
**

Yes, L was not going to die.

"What are you doing standing in the rain?" the impatient voice repeated and L smiled, haunting. This fake concern enough to turn his heart just as cold as the other that was dutifully pumping blood through Light's body and keeping him alive.

"Oh," L replied, turning to look back up at the sky and the stars.

"I was just listening to the bells, they're awfully loud today. I thought perhaps a wedding maybe, or..."

If it weren't for the Death Note, would they have married? He would have liked to marry Light, or at least he thought he would as his mind fleeted back to the disturbing sound of bells.

_dong-dong-dong_

But no, L realized. It was most definitely a funeral.

Light sighed, walking closer to him and L kept him in check and watched as he approached without appearing to do so, because he knew that your enemy could always stab you in the back.

"You're going to catch a cold out here, why don't we go back inside."

It would have been a question if there had been concern but it wasn't, it was merely a statement. I'm pretending to care. Acknowledge that I'm pretending to care.

It's cold, and I don't want to pretend. Let's go back inside.

**ＩV**

L's hands were around Light's neck when he caught up with what he was doing, and his sneakers were lost and swallowed by the moment and the concrete as he walked with him, away. Light's beautiful face, his pretty smile disappearing and turning ugly, contorting, as his grip tightened and –

L was not going to die.

**VI**

Not going to die alone.

_salt stains_

_his lips as they part,_

_warmed_

_(cooled?)_

_by breath. He can feel it escaping him._

Too late.

Too late.

Already falling.

_/_

_Light was not aware, at first, that he was staring._

_He would be caught in a thought when his mind would jolt and he happened to be looking his way; it was nothing. Nothing that required a more deeper analysis._

_In reflection, Light didn't know exactly when it had begun. He wasn't sure, even, what it was. It was a feeling that left him nervous and confused._

_Confused because, he knew that he was Kira. And he could not be thinking of Ryuzaki (or L) as a friend._

_Couldn't be wanting to get closer to him._

_/_

**VII**

_too late to pretend or act or think._

___(not Kira - never_)

_Or hate, or love?_

_/_

A death, a second.


End file.
